


Fallen

by Sasha713



Series: After Always [1]
Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Season 4 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-15
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:05:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasha713/pseuds/Sasha713
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag for "Always" season 4 finale.</p><p>Beckett struggles with herself...</p><p>AN: This fic has major SPOILERS. If you haven't seen the end of season 4 of Castle DO NOT read unless you want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to add my own 2 cents to the fandom. This is my first Castle fic, and it was inspired by the end of season 4.

She hit the concrete and she suddenly knew, with utter clarity, that this moment could be her last.

It didn’t take a bullet through the heart to stop her. It didn’t take her months of recovery and pain, and that sickening feeling that her life was spiralling out of her control to derail her suicidal determination.

All it took was this moment, where she knew without pride or shame that she had maybe gone that one final step too far.

She had chased this. Had fought so hard to find this, -to find him- when in actual fact, given the sudden recognition she felt in this moment, she had potentially been chasing her own death. The ghost of herself that had haunted her for so long.

She stared up into the face of her killer, seeing every flaw and every nuance that made him human, the coldness in his eyes as he looked at her with an expression almost hiding his pity, and she knew.

There was no coming back from whatever moment would come next.

Her efforts to fight back were in vain. Maybe this whole year had been nothing more than an act of self-sacrifice rather than any true attempt at finding closure.

_We know exactly who we’re dealing with. ___

Maybe they did know. Maybe they had always known. And maybe that was what Castle had been trying to protect her from. Not from these monsters who thought to dictate the lives of so many, but from herself.

She had run headlong towards this, as if it was the only perceivable thing that could possibly bring her peace. Give her that closure she had ached so long to feel, turning her into an echo of who she had been before her shooting. The reason why she had put up walls between her and Castle.

She’d needed those walls.

Funny how the only closure she would be getting was the type that you didn’t wake up from.

She could do nothing but look up as he disappeared from view, her very body urging her to just let go. To let her fingers slip just that little bit more, allowing herself to free fall to her undignified death on the pavement far below.

But she couldn’t. 

Something was driving her to hold on. To ignore the impotent, helpless side of herself murmuring that she had been beaten. That they had won despite the fact that she had fought so diligently. Fought so blindly.

Her eyes were on her fingers as she dangled so precariously above the world, unable to take her eyes away from that one last rebellion against the confines of their mastery over her.

But her salvation was slipping, and all she could think, all she could feel, was regret.

“ _Castle… _”__

It came out as a whisper, without any real thoughts about it entering her mind before his name had already slipped past her lips, as if she could do nothing but pray that he hadn’t really walked out of her life the moment that she would need him most. Because he had always been her life line, now that she thought about it. Now that she needed him.

And he wasn’t there. She would have to come to terms with the choices she had made and what she had been sacrificing in the name of salvation herself.

Her fingers latched onto the ledge, tethering her to life, and she knew, after this moment, she would never look at things the same.

It was a revival.

She hadn’t been awake, truly, since her shooting almost a year ago. But now…it was like her eyes were open for the first time, just on the verge of that final ending, and all she could do was look up, comprehending that this had all been some unavoidable self-destructive practical joke on herself. The fissures of her past were land-sliding towards her, the dirt filling in those cracks that had been bleeding for months, smoothing over the surfaces she hadn’t realised were so splintered.

It wasn’t some miracle that saved her life. It wasn’t Castle that came to her and pulled her back onto solid ground. For a moment, she had allowed herself to believe that maybe his goodbye hadn’t been so permanent. That he would always come for her no matter how hard she pushed him away and how far she ran from the feelings threatening to swallow her alive and derail her from her determination to end this war they had waged on her and the people she loved.

But he hadn’t come. And she was left picking up the pieces of her own downfall, her life scattered, trying to sew the ragged edges back together. Somewhere inside, she knew that she had to do this alone. Knew that it was time to evaluate what exactly she was doing and what direction she would take next.

The rain was cold on her skin, slipping down under the collar of her jacket, freezing her as she sat shivering on the swing, the place beside her sorrowfully empty as she tried to figure out what exactly she had come to learn about herself on that ledge. What she had realised that moment in Gates’ office when she had rubbed her fingers over that badge, the numbers representing her suddenly seeming to feel cold.

_41319. ___

She wasn’t sure that number could accurately define who she was anymore. She couldn’t fall back on that now. It was just another change that had swamped her with swift debilitation, offering her a new form of regeneration if she would be brave enough to reach out and accept it.

She hadn’t felt remorse at following her anger. Her unflinching desire and drive for the _truth _.__

Chasing down her death had only brought clarity, and for some reason, that clarity had led her here. To an abandoned park where there had been a promise made so long ago. That once her barriers were down, she would be ready for whatever future would lie ahead. Past the reinvention of herself that she hadn’t even realised was occurring underneath the strictures of her skin.

As she sat in the driving rain, the cold sluice of it slickening her skin and drenching her hair, she felt like her barriers, the ones that had kept her shielded from the potential for pain, were in tatters, washing away in this downpour, a definitive relief slipping through her veins as she realised exactly why she had come here of all places.

Because she had been hanging above the world, having been beaten down to the ground, so low she would have pavement in her teeth for weeks, and all she had been able to think of was one thing.

And that one thing had not been revenge. Or finding her shooter again. Or chasing more leads.

It had been _Castle _. The whisper of his name slipping past her lips sounding loud now in her memory. Some part of her had recognised that rather than her badge or her determination, that he was her true salvation.__

_You will meet an Alexander, and he will be extremely important to you. At some future date, he may save your life. _Even after all this time, Penny Marchand’s words haunted her, a prediction that she had never realised was so accurate. Because he had saved her life. In more ways than just the obvious.__

She walked in the rain, finding herself looking up at the familiar building that somehow felt like coming home. She found herself standing on the street, under an awning as she reached numb fingers into her pocket, fumbling with her phone, hesitating only for a second before she was dialling his number, staring at his picture for a moment before she lifted it to her ear, willing him to answer.

But he didn’t. And she knew that she probably wouldn’t have known what to say over a phone line if he had. Needing to hear his voice again was as far as she had gotten.

Once more, she felt that determination underscored by the rejection, feeling like she was looking up once more at her fingers clenched on some ledge, unwilling to let go. Unwilling to release her need for him in this moment, because, letting go of him felt a little like letting go of that ledge all over again.

She just wasn’t ready to do that.

At the time, she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge what he had been saying to her in her apartment, too focused on his betrayal. But now she understood completely. He had been seeing it objectively and it had driven him to protect her. Driven him to try to shield her from the danger she was in like he was her own bulletproof vest with ‘Writer’ scrawled across his surface.

He had been determined to save her from herself, just like she had been determined to throw herself in front of the firing squad.

And she had almost succeeded.

_Yeah, you’re right Kate, It’s your life. You can throw it away if you want, but I’m not going to stick around and watch you. So this is, uh, over. I’m done. ___

He had already known how suicidal her actions had been, and it took only today’s near death experience to figure out that he had seen the bigger picture long before she had been able to.

She crossed the street, her fingers tightening in her pocket, a reflex against the feeling that maybe she was once more falling towards that unmistakable ending.

Her fingers ached.

This moment felt like a final exhalation of resistance.

She was cold. Shivering still as she stood at his doorway, knowing that he was on the other side of this door, most probably trying to forget he had ever heard the name Katherine Beckett.

She would be reminding him.

He opened the door, his features saying so much, because it was an expression that stated oh-so-clearly how cold he was towards her right now, protecting himself for once, and she suddenly knew how it felt to be on the wrong side of some barrier, just like he had been for months.

_Because I love you…but you already knew that, didn’t you? Have known for about a year… ___

“Beckett, what do you want?” He asked, everything in his features hinting that he really didn’t want her there, only because maybe her presence hurt him further. She had been so intent on finding her closure, she’d managed to ignore the way that he had started to seek his own version of closure. That final chapter close to them.

But it wasn’t about him this time. He had already said all the things that she had never been game enough to say. He had already told her so much, with words and without, what this was to him. He had always been the brave one in this complicated and unconfessed thing between them.

And, the way she figured it, it was her turn.

And she didn’t even hesitate.

“You.”

She stepped into his doorway uninvited, her hands reaching out to him, her cold lips pressing to his warm ones, the relief at feeling this without any reasons to hesitate enlivening her, and she felt the sudden flood of tears gather behind her closed lids at the bitter-sweet emotion drowning her. She had no reason to rebel against her emotions anymore. Instead, she embraced them, feeling somehow that this was the most bitter-sweet moment of her life.

She gripped onto his shoulder, ignoring the stiff way he held himself, his hands by his sides, her forehead close to his, breathing him in while he stood there before her, murmuring words softly to him, needing him to know how sorry she was for everything she had done to push him away. Everything that had happened that had forced him feel like the best thing he could do was walk away from her.

“I’m so sorry…” she kissed him again, needing to feel him. Needing…

He pressed her back from him, looking down at her with deep eyes, taking in every nuance of vulnerability she had to show, and she couldn’t hide any of it from him anymore, the tears that had slipped down her face unchecked, burning her cheeks.

“What happened?” He asked, and she saw the worry in his eyes, saw the way he assessed her as if he was more concerned about her mental state than he was about gratification.

Like this was just second nature. To have her walk in and kiss him, murmuring her apology in the dim light of his entryway, tear tracks seared into her cheeks.

“He got away, and I didn’t care.” She found herself admitting, more sure than she had been of any other moment she had experienced before in regards to him.

She wasn’t afraid of this anymore. It was just an instinct to be here, to need him.

A basic need.

“I almost died, and all I could think of…was you.” She looked at him, assessing his reaction to her words. “I just want you.” She whispered, instinctively honest with him.

His expression changed, his eyes showing how much he wanted her, his lips crushing to hers in the next instant, pressing her backwards into the door, his body pressed to her wet form, lips burning hers.

And it was the best feeling she had felt. Because she had been numb before. But now…she was awake. She was conscious and she was seeing things clearly and regretting all the time in between, knowing somehow that everything had been guiding her to this. Guiding her here into this inevitable embrace, laced with pain and heartache and a clenching need that just wouldn’t be denied anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His eyes traced her soft curves, each bruise rising on her unveiled skin a testament to the fact that he hadn’t been able to protect her. Had walked away when she had needed him. He mapped each mark, and each tear track that had scoured her face, separated from the rain that had soaked her to the bone.

The lightning flashed outside, only heightening the dim lighting in his apartment and sending shards of sharp illumination over the expanse of the flesh he was tasting.

She tasted like rain, her neck damp with the drops that made her shiver, and he began to peel the moist layers of clothing off her, his eyes focusing over and over again on the scar that marked her flesh right in the centre of her chest. The bullet that had pierced her heart forever displayed there in that remnant, his fingers touching the puckered scar with a little bit too much desperation, a reminder of how close he had come to losing her one year ago.

He wondered faintly how close she had come today. How close he had come to losing her and to holding another regret when it came to her.

_I almost died, and all I could think about was you. I just want you… ___

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his hand shake as he cuffed her wrist with his fingers, pressing it to the bed, fighting to remain in control despite his whole world shifting with each kiss and each touch of her desperate hands, and each unbridled caress of his against moist skin.

Her clothing was soaking into his, but that fact only made this feel more elemental, like she herself was seeping under his skin just like that water was seeping into the material that separated them.

Her lips tasted like rain and her. The last time he had kissed her…

It had been too long. Too much resistance. Too much hesitation. Too much anger and fear and longing combining in the months between.

But she tasted like he remembered. Tasted… _real _.__

Her eyes were haunted, the green depths looking pale in the dim light, her expression one of longing and agony and need, underscored by some hidden experience she had fought her way through to make it to his doorstep.

_I’m so sorry Castle. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry _.__

Her whispered words shook him now, the pain in them clear, the way she had repeated herself skipping now in his head, as if she hadn’t been able to think beyond that apology, and it had felt like she had been apologising for so much more than their argument. It had been something more.

And he needed her. Wanted her. Loved her.

It felt like they had finally made it to that same place at that same time, pushed by so many insidious forces, but despite this, it felt right this time.

His lips grazed once more across that scar, hands slipping under the material of her shirt, her jacket discarded now on the floor, his fingers sliding across dampened flesh. She gave to him willingly, his hands heavy on her, curving around her freely now, learning the way she arched under his palms and the way she felt, warmer now as he meticulously rid her of the chill that had been rocking her body, her trembling not just from the cold.

“I love you.” He murmured, the words strained, muffled against her scar, her heart beat vibrating under his lips. He needed to feel that heartbeat.

Her hands grasped him, running over his shoulders, fingers slicing through his hair, pulling him, guiding him upwards, their eyes locking before she lifted her chin and fitted her mouth to his, taking his thoughts with the way she kissed him, like she wanted nothing more in this moment. Like this was essential to her.

And that was what it was.

_Essential _.__

Her eyes held too much vulnerability, her expression too open on his face, something that only a near death experience could evoke.

He wondered if that was the reason why she was here. The reason why she had come. If it was just some way to feel alive and without regret when it came to them. If she had died today, she would have regretted denying this.

He didn’t want this to be just out of numbness and a desire to feel. He wanted more for them. He wanted the ‘I love you’ that she had never murmured, but he knew, that maybe she had never been the type of woman to give it. Too much heartache. Too much uncertainty.

She was here because she loved him.

_He got away and I didn’t care. I almost died, and all I could think about…was you _.__

That was enough for now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As they lay there in the aftermath, she stared almost numbly towards the rain buffeted window, the lightning that illuminated his dim room making this seem more intimate somehow, like they were embraced by the raging storm outside, enclosed as they were in the quietness of his room –a pocket of safety from all the tempestuous forces that blurred together beyond these walls.

He didn’t say anything, his hand on her shoulder, his thumb moving back and forth across her bare skin unconsciously, his eyes cast upwards towards the ceiling, brooding now with that quiet intensity he had when something was troubling him.

She knew what it was, and the fact that he wasn’t asking just made her more aware that things between them were in no way resolved just because she had come here and been with him like this.

She wasn’t regretting it, and she knew that he would never regret it either, but there were some things that needed to be said. By her this time.

He deserved more than what she had given him. Deserved some honesty and some resolution from her. An explanation why she had come here after the last time they had been in the same room, his words of things between them being ‘over’ stinging more now than they had at the time.

She had been driven by her need for vengeance at the time. Her need to hate him for keeping something so fundamentally important to her to himself. Her need to find the man responsible. The _people _responsible…__

It had blinded her. She knew that now.

Despite her knowledge that she needed to talk, she was struggling with how. She had never been the best at addressing this thing between them. Not in the manner in which he needed.

“I was afraid.” She said, breaking the silence, and she stiffened against his side, the warmth from his skin seeping into her skin, her still damp hair making another shiver rock her. He tightened his arm around her, a reaction to the shudder, turning his head slightly, and she knew that he was looking at her now, his cheek brushing her temple.

“Of what?” He asked when she didn’t continue, needing to hear her say it.

“Of losing control. Of feeling helpless.” She explained, her chin dipping downwards, unable to look up at him with these unmentionable things slipping off her tongue like admissions of weakness.

“I was afraid of letting go of the investigation. I couldn’t see that I was running towards a suicide mission.” She continued, thinking once more of the cold way her would-be killer had gazed down at her as she hung by her fingertips off that ledge. He had been seeing a dead woman.

“I can’t let go, Castle.” She admitted, focusing back on this moment. On him lying next to her.

“Then why did you come here?” He asked, stiffening, his fingers stilling on her arm.

“Because the thing I can’t let go of isn’t the investigation…it’s _you _. I can’t let go of _you _.” She revealed, finally lifting her eyes to meet his in the golden light filtering into his bedroom from the main room of his apartment, broken by the intermittent flashes of silver.____

His eyes were full of sorrow, and an unnamed emotion that she considered to be a form of wariness.

“I’m not here just because I…almost died.” She continued gingerly.

“Then why?” He was challenging her. Seeing how much she was willing to give before he allowed himself to give more of himself. She couldn’t blame him. Because he had always been there, giving her more than she had ever returned. She had ignored it all time and again –to her own detriment she now realised.

“Because my life is spiralling out of control, and you are the only still point that I know. The only one that has always kept me…from falling.”

_Kept me from falling _.__

She had hung on for him. Been waiting for him.

Maybe he had been the one hanging on a metaphorical ledge all this time. And she had let him hang there, expecting him to come to her rescue but never coming to his. But he hadn’t let go. Not until she had rocked his faith in her. Not until she had pushed him that little bit more.

She wasn’t sure she had really made it in time to pull him back onto solid ground.

“Then…I guess I can’t let you fall now.” He murmured softly, reaching over her, his fingers tracing the edge of her scar, the feeling of the intimate touch sending another shiver through her as their eyes locked, a flash of silver illuminating his eyes. Blue. Full of the love he had been holding onto for so long, barely masked by caution. Even now, he was uncertain of her. Of them. And he had every reason not to trust her in this.

“Can you forgive me?” She asked, feeling tears crest in her eyes as she felt the edges of her calm fray at the realisation that she needed his forgiveness. Needed him to know the depths of her sorrow over what she had done to him. What they had been doing to each other for years.

_Four years I’ve been right here! Four years, just waiting for you to open your eyes and see that I’m right here… ___

Right now, she was broken and she needed help in not only putting her pieces back together but finding them all again.

He reached up, cupping her face with a gentle hand, his thumb working over her cheek which was tight with the dried tears that had fallen down her face.

“I want to.” He replied honestly. She felt her emotion seize her, her hand trembling as she reached up to curve her hand over his.

“I want you to know that I…” she swallowed, the uncertainty threatening to derail her confession. But she couldn’t keep it inside. “…love you.” She said awkwardly, feeling the depths of that emotion in her chest, making her heart ache, feeling like saying it was important.

It felt… _right _.__

A _relief _.__

Like another weight had been lifted from the heavy press on her chest, something she had always associated with the invisible graze of the bullet that had torn through her, scarring her heart. A phantom ache from a metal long since removed. But it hadn’t always been that.

The barriers she had erected to protect herself after her mother’s death had only helped her lock everything inside. Repress it all. Including the feelings she had ignored for this maddening and endearing man –avoided and denied.

“That’s always a good start.” He responded calmly, and she nodded her head, unable to say anything more as her tears slipped from her eyes, more from relief than anything insidious. He was willing to forgive her…eventually. She was okay with that.

He turned his head, pressing his lips to her forehead, his kiss lingering there as he murmured, “One step at a time, Kate.” against her skin, soothing her as she gripped onto him, crying silently into his shoulder until the cold began to leave her skin, his presence, his scent, right beside her lulling her into a sense of calm. She wasn’t afraid of him seeing this vulnerability. For once, she was depending on his strength rather than the frayed remnants of her own.

She could suddenly see clearly that this was essential. He was essential.

And whatever came next, they would find a way to survive it. Because he would never let her fall again…

.fin.  
 _Listening to:_  
 _In my veins -Andrew Belle  
Before it breaks -Brandi Carlile  
Moon and moon -Bats for lashes  
Shine right through -Correatown  
Nuvole Bianche -Ludovico Einaudi_


End file.
